


a boy's guide to godhood

by Marenke



Series: the quaren-fics [101]
Category: Something Dark and Holy Series - Emily A. Duncan
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marenke/pseuds/Marenke
Summary: There is blood in his mouth. He'll keep the taste for it.
Series: the quaren-fics [101]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896019
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	a boy's guide to godhood

There is only pain in the Salt Mines: Malachiasz's body, lashed until his back resembles a bloody rose rather than flesh; Malachiasz, iron instead of nails, teeth chipping when the tried to chew; Malachiasz, goose-flesh over wounds that won't scar, shivering to himself in his cell, trying to sleep.

 _If there are gods_ , he thinks, still too young to be stuck in such a place, _why won't they come for me?_

The answer he learns in later years: because gods do not care for little abandoned boys in heretical countries. There is a bitter taste in his mouth, half-bile, half-blood, as he looks over Kalyazin's churches.

Gods, splendorous and pious. Gods that care for their subjects. What is the point of being a god, if you do not care for everyone, if you do not extend a hand to the suffering ones?

Malachiasz, deep into his books: he's chewing on a nail, slowly feeling blood fill his mouth, coating it. There is a book speaking heresies for tranavians and kalyazis: a guide to becoming a god, a spell in blood, sacrifice piled upon sacrifice at the feet of the Carrion Throne, and he a god at the end of it.

If the gods could not be merciful, fine. Neither would he. Topple the gods, remake the pantheon on his own image. He'd spare the suffering.

There is blood in his mouth. He'll keep the taste for it.

Malachiasz, scheming: some days there is so much blood in his hands it's hard to remember which is his and which is not. He is deep in Kalyazin, pretending at being human. Parj and Rashid keep him sane, help the farce he put up. He watched carefully the cleric girl, her eyes, her piety: the gods do play favorites, and all the wounds he has no scars for ache. Betrayal will be a bitter kind of sweet.

The boy who once was, a god: he can't remember his name, but he remembers that godhood was his goal - and yet he cannot help but find it disappointingly mundane. He needs more, more - more, until he can stab the gods and replace them.

There is a hunger inside of him: flesh and power in his mouth. His many eyes open, wings of freshly created leather already taking him to his destination.


End file.
